


I warned you not to touch her

by vivilove



Series: Wildling Jon & His Princess [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jon is a wildling, Secret Crush, minor mentioned violence, minorly salty teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21647635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: After Jon has recovered from his fever, he saves her from three deserters from the Nights Watch.  A lady might give a knight a kiss on the cheek for that but what will Sansa do when it comes to her wildling captor?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Wildling Jon & His Princess [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520897
Comments: 35
Kudos: 219





	I warned you not to touch her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [israfel00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/israfel00/gifts).



> For israfel00's dialogue prompt "I warned you not to touch her."

“I warned you not to touch her.”

His voice is a low, raspy thing when he cuts the last one’s throat. Was that the lingering effects of the ague he’d been suffering? She shivers, knowing it makes no difference but also wondering why it leaves her trembling in such a strange manner.

His hand is grasping hers, pulling her off the hard ground where one of their attackers had thrown her. “Are you hurt, princess?”

Out of habit, her lips thin out and a frown starts to form at him calling her that. She has warned him about that. _Does it matter now?_ No, not really.

He sees the hint of that frown and starts chuckling. He just killed three men and he’s laughing. He is a very strange man. But then again, he is a wildling. She shouldn’t be thinking the things she’s been thinking about him lately.

He ceases his chuckling. “I’m sorry. Are you alright, Sansa?” he asks this time, his grey eyes all somber and concerned…and beautiful. His fingers lightly brush her cheek and she is very far from alright. What is the matter with her?

“I’m alright. Thank you for saving me.”

He shrugs. He’s used to violence, no doubt. He saved them both, she supposes.

The men were Nights Watch, or once were, but they had not behaved anything like her Uncle Benjen or the Black Knights of the Wall she’d imagined.

They’d come upon Sansa and her captor (is he still her captor?) but they hadn’t rode North of the Wall to rescue Lord Stark’s abducted daughter. They apparently had decided they didn’t much care to return to Castle Black and wanted to live as they pleased. They were deserters and oath breakers, no knights at all.

They’d held out their blades, promising to do all manner of vile things to Jon and made japes about taking turns with his little wildling whore next. She realizes they meant her. They’d thought her a wildling as well. She should be insulted perhaps but she’s not, only grateful to Jon for not allowing any real harm to come to her.

 _“I will kill you if you touch her,”_ he’d warned them.

They’d laughed…until he’d shown them their folly.

He’s busily pilfering from the dead men. It seems wrong to Sansa but she knows it is his people’s way. She would rather not look at any of it but he’s talking about good steel and better boots.

“An extra cloak for you,” he murmurs, placing the black fur around her shoulders.

_A cloak, he’s given me a cloak._

Her heart, which has only started to slow from the fright, is suddenly thumping swiftly again. But this is different. It’s not fear. He’s thinking of her. He’s just faced three armed men, bested them and his thoughts are of her comfort. He’s…

 _Stop,_ a voice that sounds suspiciously like her septa’s says. _He’s a wildling. He’s taken you captive. You never would’ve encountered those horrible men if not for him._

This is true.

The thoughts continue though now it’s just her normal inner voice. _You never would’ve had him calling you princess to irk you, never would’ve shoved him into that water for not stopping when you told him to, never would’ve told him about Joffrey or shared a roasted hare with him, he never would’ve become ill and you never would’ve had to keep him warm. You never would’ve seen him wearing only your cloak or how it parted as the two of you slept close that night and when you woke but he still slept, you looked…_

She’s blushing now. She had only peeked.

“What?” he asks.

She jumps, embarrassed to realize he’s been looking at her and very thankful he cannot read her mind. “Nothing,” she replies, shaking her head.

He’s smiling at her. He won’t press her. He’s ready to move on. They’re always moving on. She’s not sure where they’re going anymore. She supposes she could ask but part of her dreads the end of their journey. She’s coming to see their time together as a journey and she wants it to continue. She suspects when it ends so will their acquaintance…or whatever this is.

Considering what he just did, she feels like this is appropriate. She darts forward so quick, she catches him off guard. Her lips brush against the skin just above his beard. It’s warm.

His hand is pressed to his cheek where she kissed him a second ago. It’s noticeably growing pink. She’s sure her face is aflame. “What was that for?”

“A thank you.”

She won’t call him a knight. He would be appalled more than likely if she did. But she can still give him a kiss in thanks, can’t she? Just like a lady in a song might do after a knight has been heroic and saved her?

They walk along together, silently. She’s too shocked by this shift in her feelings towards her captor and mortified at the thoughts of him knowing anything about it. He’d laugh if he knew. He’s not laughing now. He’s so quiet. He’s often silent when he’s not teasing her. She thinks he must be mulling over something from the violent encounter with those men or some wildling secrets that will lead them somewhere warm and dry tonight.

“Do ladies always thank men with a kiss?” he asks suddenly, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“No, I…you saved me earlier and it seemed proper in this instance.” She wonders if he’ll tease her for it.

But he doesn’t seem like he’s teasing when he tells her, “I’ll have to think of ways to save you more often.”

His grin is infectious and she can’t help grinning back. Her heart’s going thumpity-thump as they continue walking. The only thing that might make this moment sweeter is if he held her hand.

And then, he does.

“This way, princess,” he say, taking her hand and helping her up a steep incline.

She can’t even summon the urge to correct him this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Promise I’m working on WIPs. This was in my head yesterday and decided to post it here :)


End file.
